


From Where I Stand

by Gangstertogangster



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gangstertogangster/pseuds/Gangstertogangster
Summary: A ficlet about my OC, Shauna Riley, and her thoughts and feelings, from a third person perspective.I'm aware of the horribleness of the Ranskahov brothers, they both suck. They're minor antagonists in daredevil who deal in heroin and human trafficking.I remembered Gideon Emery, how he said "Delegation equals deniability," upon reflecting on Anatoly's involvement with that. So I wanted to explore the blinders that mob wives and girlfriends and partners put on, in order to get through their lives without losing sleep. Shauna's grown up with the Irish mob, so that life is what she knows.Briana McLaughlin is IrisOfParadise's OC
Relationships: Anatoly Ranskahov/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	From Where I Stand

Shauna did what every other mob woman did. _Put it all out of your mind._ That was what was necessary in order to keep one’s sanity and the illusion of a conscience. 

Her husband’s ubiquitous tattoos did make it hard to ignore, because every piece of ink meant something. A tattoo might mean murder, or gang affiliation, or time served, or a number of other things. 

Anatoly’s meant each and every one of those things, as did those of his brother. 

Anatoly’s body told a story, whether she liked it or not. She _felt_ it in every sense of the word. 

There was never going to be any other kind of man in her life. All she knew were mob types, mysterious blood stains creeping up every so often, uncles and cousins who looked like they had just been in a fight, stashes of foreign currency, guns tucked away, shouting, police busting through the doors. She lived with her grandmother and siblings, but everyone came through the doors at some point. Every day felt like a family reunion. 

She always understood why her grandmother put up with everyone and their comings and goings and arrests and binge drinking and stashing of cash and guns and drugs, the constant blood spatters all over shirts and pants. Other children of the mob might question it, but Shauna never did. _Put it out of your mind._

And if the questions you ask yourself get too intrusive in your mind, get rid of them all. She had her means, though it almost killed her. Anatoly had that in common with her, but she never asked him how exactly he got started, or why he stopped. 

Her sister Bridget asked her, “Why are you with a heroin addict, that’s a giant fucking red flag.” 

Nevermind that he was recovering, which is what Shauna always reminded her sister. Bridget always stuck her nose too far in everyone else’s affairs, anyway. Who did Bridget think she’d marry, an insurance salesman? 

It was easier to talk to Briana about this stuff, since Briana wasn’t family and also since she got with a Russian mobster as well. One of the men in Anatoly’s employ. Briana put it out of her mind, at least Shauna believed. 

Even as kids when they played pretend and imagined their weddings, the guys were always “bad.” Neither one imagined a good guy, that just wasn’t realistic. 

You had to be realistic in Hell’s Kitchen, especially if you lived in the world of a gang, where everyone was bad. The notion of original sin was amplified to say the least. How would she explain any of this to their future children? She considered it now and again. She decided to go by the useful tried and true mantra. _Put it out of your mind._

Hopefully they’d do the same. 

* * *

“Dobroye utro, babe,” Shauna smiled at her fiance. Duolingo was paying off. As was, of course, all the immersion she was getting. 

“Dobroye utro,” He answered sleepily. 

“Khochesh’ kofye?” 

“Nyet, spasibo.” 

“Ladno,” Shauna tossed out, stumbling out of the bed and into the kitchen for a cup of coffee for herself. 

Mornings could be cozy with coffee and sunlight pouring in through the apartment windows. Mornings just like this one. That was how easy it could be, if the women and children’s screams and cries were far from them. If the taxis of heroin for addicts like her past self were parked far, far away. Just say some prayers and it all washes away. 

_There’ve been worse catholics._ She reminded herself. 

* * *

Anatoly had proposed on the rooftop, where so many of their dates ended. He started with, of course, “My brother gave me his blessing.” 

Vladimir could eat it. 

It was a 4 carat diamond ring that he slipped on her finger.They embraced and he held her tight in his arms and they made love on the roof as the noises of Hell’s Kitchen at night surrounded them. 

Saying yes was no question, of course she was always going to say yes. 

“He does look like that Scottish fella that was in those Planet of the Apes films…” Gran admitted. That was how she answered, after Shauna informed her grandmother of her engagement. 

Shauna merely thanked her. 

Gran immediately followed with, “I’m not keen on you marryin’ a Russian, you know. They do all the hacking and crime…” 

“Everyone in our family does crime, gran!” Shauna exclaimed. 

Gran shrugged, “Russians are bastards.”

Shauna looked to Eoin, her brother, for moral support. He’d promised as much. He just nodded his head and added, “Shaunie, gran’s got a point.” 

Bridget was more charitable, when Shauna told her. 

Bridget sighed in response. She followed with, “You can’t just get by with a man like that.” 

Shauna countered, “Shannon and Margaret’s husbands are both in jail.” 

Bridget said, “That doesn’t mean you need to marry a human trafficker. That’s just sick. How do you sleep at night.” 

“I go to confession,” Shauna deadpanned. 

“You and Briana are going to hell,” Bridget shrugged. 

* * *

  
  


In their kitchen now, Shauna mulled this old conversation over. 

It wasn’t like Anatoly STILL did that. Especially after Daredevil was out and about. Especially after he was dating Vladimir. 

“There’s worse men than him,” was Shauna’s main mantra. Even though she could never stop thinking about him. His rough and battered face, his bruised body, his many tattoos that told many gristly stories. And his wicked sense of humor, and his baking, and his foul mouth. 

She sipped her coffee. He didn’t still do that...stuff. She asked him every so often, and he denied it. He had tears in his eyes last time. He denied it. And Matt would do something about it, if it weren’t true. Wouldn’t he? 

She knew Matt from school, growing up. He was good people. She never assumed he’d be the badass vigilante type. She wanted to ask Matt how he dealt with it, how he dealt with Vladimir. He was warming up to her, but he still stayed aloof. 

Shauna finished her coffee, poured another cup. She looked out the window upon the rest of Hell’s Kitchen. From right here, where she stood, now in the morning while her fiance slept, things weren’t so bad.


End file.
